Until the very end
by The Psychotic Queen
Summary: He was broken - a weapon without a mission or master. Bucky Barnes must learn to survive again, and live once more. (On permanent haitus)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey there everyone, I have finally returned to post a story once again! It's been many years since I've posted one of my works here (most of which are deleted) - and I would like to say I have grown much as a writer since. This is my first time writing a story on Captain America, so please bear with me. This story is currently un-betad, but if anybody would be up for the job feel free to shoot me a message! Now, onto the story...**

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He was broken. A weapon, lost and confused without a mission or Master. Hydra had fallen. But The Winter Soldier knew, you cut off one head and two more will grow back in its place. He felt numb as he wandered, mind racing with a thousand thoughts. He had questions, and he wanted answers. Who was the man on the bridge? Why did he act like he knew him? Why did The Soldier feel like _he_ knew _him_? Who the hell was Bucky? He knew the answer to the last question at least. After fishing the Captain out of the river (why did he do that? He was his mission. _He failed his mission_.) The Soldier had gone to The Smithsonian. He had seen the posters, and had gone through the Captain America exhibit. James Buchanan Barnes. The man who had his face. _"Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers where inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country."_ The recording said this, but The Soldier knew it to be false. He was alive, and he was no war hero like the exhibit painted him to be. No he was a killer. Scratch that, Bucky Barnes _was_ dead. He was the monster who remained, who had stolen that mans body.

He remembered nothing of that life. All the Soldier knew was pain and suffering both at Hydra's hands and for them. _"You are to be the new fist of HYDRA!" _... _"Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped this century..."_ ... _"'Prep him.' 'He's been out of cryo-freeze too long.' 'Then wipe him and start over.'" _ The Soldier grit his teeth, the memories bombarding him like a freight train. A train... The Soldier had few to none memories, but sometimes he dreamed of falling. But was it just a dream? He had it many times, and now he knew the man on the bridge to be there. But how could he dream of someone he didn't know? But he did know him. Or least this Bucky did. "Argh!" He punched the alley wall in frustration. Why couldn't he remember anything?! Why?! He needed to know. He needed to find his mission (_no, not his mission, not anymore_) he needed to find him and he needed to remember.

He wandered the streets of New York in a daze. He had no idea where to go or what to do now that HYDRA had no hold over him. This freedom, it was strange and stifling. And while a big part of him wanted to search out the man on the bridge and remember, another part of him wanted to do nothing more than run back to HYDRA. Remembering...it was painful. A part of him wished to go back, enter cryo, to embrace the cold harsh winter and forget all that had happened. At least with cryo he didn't dream. He had so little memories, but every time he closed his eyes now, more and more bombarded him. He was a monster, he had killed men, women, and children without remorse. He didn't deserve to be free, for his hands were painted red. He was just as evil as HYDRA themselves.

But besides memories of his actions as The Asset, he also dreamed of peace and happiness. In these dreams (or were they memories?) the man from the bridge was there. He was much smaller in the dreams, much to his confusion. But nevertheless, it was the same man. He was there in the dreams as well, or at least the man he must have used to be. They were laughing together, and smiling. _"I'm your friend!" _ The man from the bridges voice echoed in his mind. Could he be? Could they really once have been comrades in another life? No, impossible it couldn't be...right? They were merely dreams. Dreams of a better world, one where his every waking moment was not a nightmare. But they just couldn't be true.

He stumbled on his feet in the crowded streets of New York, feeling strangely exhausted. He had been walking around for five days straight, doing nothing but wandering aimlessly. On the third day he collapsed, luckily in an area with no-one around. It was then that he realized he needed to sleep now. Now, in the present, he stumbled again - and resigned himself to the fact he needed a break. He wandered into a cold abandoned alley, intending to rest his eyes for only a moment or two. But the cold harsh darkness of sleep enveloped him, and the memories came once again.

**Meanwhile in Avengers Tower...**

"Steve, look man, you've _got_ to take a break." Sam Wilson tried to reason with his friend. "Working yourself to death like this is not going to help anyone." He added. "I can't stop, Sam - I just can't. Knowing that Bucky is out there, somewhere, in New York is driving me crazy." Steve replied, rubbing at his temples as he scanned the computer screen for any signs of Bucky's whereabouts. Stark had put up a special software that inputted Bucky's face, so if any cameras happened to spot him they would get a location as to where. So far however, they had come up empty-handed. "Ever since Natasha handed me his folder, I haven't been able to sleep. Do you _know_ what HYDRA did to him? He's been through hell!" Steve insisted.

"Yeah, I know. I read the folder too." Sam sighed. "But Steve, staring at a blank computer screen is not going to help us find him any faster. Take a break. Take a _shower._ Just, for gods sake, _eat something._ Neglecting your health is not helping anyone." Sam practically pleaded. "If anything comes up, I'll come and get you." He promised. Steve huffed a little, but finally conceded. "Fine. But if anything, and I mean anything comes up..." Steve trailed off. "I'll tell you, don't worry." Sam finished, nodding his head.

So Steve got up, pushing in his chair and reluctantly headed towards the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich, with mayo, mustard, and all the good stuff - then sat down and began to eat. He ate as his mind went back to the folder Natasha had handed him on the soldier known as The Winter Soldier. When he had finally managed to sit down and read the contents of the folder, he really wished he hadn't. Torture, plain and simple, is what his old friend had gone through. It was enough to make Steve so furious that he felt like raiding any remaining HYDRA bases himself and blowing them to the high heavens.

He sighed for the umpteenth time, standing up and depositing his napkin in the trash, and putting his plate in the sink. He rinsed it off, then put it in the dishwater so Stark wouldn't complain. Not like Tony ever did the dishes himself anyways, usually Pepper or Steve himself ended up doing them. Steve then moved to his room in the tower, laying out a clean change of clothes on his bed and hopping in the shower. As the warm water hit his skin, and he began to wash his hair - he made a promise to himself. He would find Bucky, no matter what the cost. He would find him and help him, no matter how damaged he was. Because Bucky was his friend - his best friend in fact. And he was with him until the end of the line.

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**AN: And here we conclude the first chapter! A little short, I know, but the story will pick up soon. Please tell me what you thought of it by leaving a review! Did you like it, hate it? Anything that could use improving? Constructive criticism is always appreciated! **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Next chapter is finally up! Sorry for the long wait, life just caught up to me.**

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The dreams came as the darkness unfurled, images of memories long forgotten swirling behind his closed lids, and painting a story of horrific proportions. _Cold desolation, an icy coffin of nothingness. This held the Winter Soldier, slumbering within. "Wake him." A steely voice pierced the air, ordering his men to spring into action. The monster opened it's eyes blearily as the cryo tank was opened, and cold steam hissed out. The asset slumped forward, limp and weak as two men helped him right himself. "Clean and prep him." The voice ordered once more. The monster was hosed down, and taken to a chair and pushed into it. He had IV needles stuck into his arm, which provided him sustenance and much needed nutrition. Several hours later, the Winter Soldier's eyes were now focused, and gazing upon the suited man before him - his master._

The amnesic man on the ground moaned as he dreamed, unwanted memories curling within his mind and wrapping their tendrils around his slumbering mind. _"I have a mission for you." The man before him informed, making the monster snap to attention. "A threat to Hydra. You will be doing the world a service by taking him out." His current master explained. The Soldier listened intently as he was given an outline for his mission, and all the details that entailed. "Make it look like an accident." His master barked, before finally leaving the room and allowing the Soldier to get ready. His new objective : Howard Stark._

_The monster prepared, gearing up and preparing himself for the mission ahead. Howard Stark was a threat to Hydra. Howard Stark endangered the free world they were trying to build. Howard Stark must be eliminated. The Soldier stocked up on weapons, knowing that the knives and guns strapped to his thighs wouldn't be needed - but added them anyways. The Soldier was let out, and the asset made it's way towards where his information informed him of Stark's location. He lay in wait, hiding in the shadows as he staked out the mansion before him. The monster watched through the open blinds as the woman put her child to sleep, tucking him in for the night and kissing him on the forehead. An hour passed, and his target and the women exited the house - dressed in formal wear as if to go to a party._

_The soldier followed them on foot as they got into their car, and drove away. He kept his distance until the couple drove onto an abandoned intersection, and stepped out from his hiding place in the nearby trees. It was a cold and foggy night, and the atmosphere seemed almost eerie as the soldier stepped out from the mist, and into the middle of the road. Behind the wheel of the car, Stark's eyes widened at the newcomer, and as he neared closer his swore he was witnessing a ghost. "Bucky." He breathed in disbelief, swerving off the road and hitting a tree in a desperate attempt to not hit a dead man._

_The weapon made his way towards the crashed car, peering into the vehicle to make sure his target was dead. The woman was bend over, her head smashed against the window and blood trickling everywhere. The man however was still conscious, his forehead was against the steering wheel, and he looked dazed. There was a bloody wound on his temple, and he seemed disoriented. "Bucky." His target breathed once more, eyes going towards the weapon as he brought out a small knife. The asset cocked it's head to the side curiously, wondering who this Bucky was and why his mission kept repeating the name. "You're alive...you're...watch over Tony for me." Stark breathed, obviously disoriented from the blood loss. The soldier frowned at this, confused at the request. However he shrugged it off, and in a flash dug the blade into the mans jugular - finishing the job. The soldier started a fire, and as he walked away, the car exploded behind him - erasing any trace of foul play._

The man jerked awake with a gasp, eyes wide and frantic. The brunette sat up, leaning against the damp alley wall behind him as his thoughts raced, struggling to remember what he had just dreamed. It was just a dream, wasn't it? Or was this another memory? He had killed that man and his wife, and left that child orphaned. He...he was a monster. He had already known this deep down, but the rapidly returning memories just reassured him of this fact. The memories that bombarded him in his sleep were usually fractured - broken recollections that were never so clear as the one he had just had. Another strange thought occurred to him about this most recent memory as well. He had felt something more than numbness, something more than the mindless mindset he usually had when on missions. He had felt...horrified. At the time, the soldier didn't know why he had felt like that. But now, now the feeling returned. He felt like he had known that man somehow, and this fact only made the act worse.

After a few minutes the soldier stood up, getting off the dirty alley floor and making his way back into the walking crowd. It was morning time, that much he could tell as he looked up at the shining sun above him. He needed to get to shelter - he couldn't keep living like this. He needed to find the man from the bridge, and get the blonde to tell him who he was. What he was - what his purpose was now that Hydra was gone. He had been lost when he left the man in the river, and he was still lost. But after that day, he had given himself a new goal. He would find the man once more, and get his questions answered. He had found a small paragraph on Steve Rogers in the museum he had visited - informing him of where the star spangled man now lived, and that he was now a member of the group called the Avengers. And so with this information, the amnesiac man made his way towards New York - hopping on a bus - and towards the building called Stark Tower.

He had gotten off once he entered the state, deciding to walk from there, and he had been walking ever since. But as he roamed the bustling streets of New York, his determination to find the blonde man slowly wavered. Each time new memories came, he felt more and more unsure of himself. Did he even deserve help? He was a killer. A ruthless monster, and truly did he deserve a hand from the blonde Avenger? From what few good memories that made it's way into his mind - he knew that the man from the bridge was a beacon of light. An angel disguised in human form, and the personification of good. Why would the man dirty himself by helping an abomination like him? It just didn't make sense.

He thought about getting some money, and holding up in an apartment until he sorted out these thoughts. After all, he couldn't very well keep sleeping outside. As he was growing to learn, this body needed constant sleep - and nutrition. And from what he had witnessed of the world around him, you needed money to get these things. Having decided, the brunette wandered the streets - pickpocketing strangers here and there. Soon he had collected enough money to afford a decent meal, and to rent a room. Now however he looked around, in search of place to stay.

He found a hotel, and as he ducked inside he made sure to pull the hood up tighter, and tugged on the glove that covered his bionic hand. He didn't want anyone to see him for the monster he was, and report him. He could do without the authorities for now - and he just felt tired, drained. He didn't want to have to kill anyone else. The weapon made his way up to the front desk, giving the attendant the money and receive a room and a key in turn. He took the key card and made his way to his designated room, deciding that he would think more on his chaotic thoughts tomorrow. He was tired - in fact he was always tired now - and just wanted to sleep. The decision on whether or not to go to the blonde could wait for now, he decided as he entered the room, surveying it and making sure it wasn't bugged. He moved to the bed, and laid on top of the covers. Yes, his thoughts could wait. For now, sleep.

Back at the Avengers tower, Steve let the water cascade down his body until it finally turned cold. He stayed under the spray for a little while longer, letting the icy liquid wash over him and numb the pain. However after a few moments he stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and going back into his room. He needed to find Bucky, he just had to. Two days ago Stark's facial recognition program had spotted the brunette passing a local shop, having been caught by a traffic camera. That is how they had first learned that the amnesiac man was in New York. However, ever since there hadn't been a proper lead. They had caught Bucky's face on camera several other times, but by the time they went to where he was last spotted he had disappeared - like a ghost in the wind.

Steve sighed as he got dressed, shrugging on some dark blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His eyes moved to the bed, debating laying down to get a good nights sleep, or at least a nap. Sam had been right, he had been neglecting his health. He had rarely slept a wink since he learned his best friend was in the city, and he needed to be reminded to eat as well. Steve didn't feel like sleeping though. True, he was tired - but he felt like if he closed his eyes, then something would happen without him knowing. He didn't want to miss anything - any new sighting, and new information coming in. It was true that there had been little if none new information, but Steve just couldn't help wanting to stay awake. If he closed his eyes, he might open them to find Bucky long gone - away from New York and dust in the wind. He couldn't let that happen.

So instead he decided to just rest his eyes on the sofa in his room, deciding that that at least couldn't hurt. He'd read a book, and let himself take a break from the constant searching. That in and of itself made him feel guilty - like he was giving up. But rationally he knew if he didn't stop, he wouldn't have the strength to get up when they did find something on Bucky. So Steve went over to his bookcase and picked up a random tome, then went over and sat down, opening the book. His eyes mostly glazed over the words, mind far away from the story on the page. But as he continued to read, his eyelids began to droop - and despite his best efforts to stay awake, he fell into nothingness.

On the seventh floor of the tower, Sam continued to search the computer for any traces of the amnesiac assassin. Natasha had left a little while ago, apologizing and telling him she had a mission. Sam understood, but he was still a little bored as he browsed the cameras fruitlessly. "Knock knock, anyone home?" A voice sounded from the doorway, sounding insanely cheerful next to the grim atmosphere that had plagued the room so far. Sam looked up to find the owner of the tower, and a small smile blossomed on his face.

"Yep. Just me." Sam informed the billionaire. "Natasha left, and I finally managed to get Steve to take a break." Sam explained, sighing and palming his face. He turned his attention away from the screen before him for a bit, swiveling his chair to face the playboy. "No luck so far?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow, coming into the room and sitting down. "None at all." Sam replied with a huff. "Have you tried cross referencing Barnes' description with local arrest reports?" Tony suggested, figuring that maybe the ex Hydra assassin might have gotten caught. "Yep, I think Nat did that. Nothing came up." Sam replied. "Whatever Steve's friend is doing, he's keeping quiet. Natasha was right, the man's a ghost." Sam explained with a sigh.

Tony hummed at this, rolling his own chair over to a computer and beginning to type frantically on the keyboard. Sam watched on with a curious look, wondering what the other man was getting up to. "I told you already, we tried everything." Sam piped up after a few moments of rapid typing. "Yeah, but you didn't have me." Tony mumbled, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth as he searched. "Aha! See? In only under two minutes I found something." Tony announced, making Sam sit up. "You know, you really are fortunate that you have me here." Tony insisted, making Sam roll his eyes as he moved over to the computer.

"See here? A man fitting Barnes' description check into the East Bay Motel not a half an hour ago." Tony explained, pointing to the screen. "I know, I know. I'm awesome." Tony stated with a smug grin. "Yeah, just wonderful." Sam replied sarcastically, but was still grateful. Hopefully Steve's friend was still there, and hadn't already jumped ship. "I'll tell Steve, can you call Natasha for me?" Sam asked the inventor. "Meh, why not. I have nothing to do anyways." Tony confessed, then sat up and pulled out his cellphone. Meanwhile Sam stood up, moving towards the elevator and taking it to the tenth floor where Steve's room lay. The falcon entered the room after knocking and getting no reply, peeking his head in to find a slumbering blonde.

Sam sighed as her surveyed the sleeping super soldier. On one hand, he had promised to get him if he found anything out. On the other, the man before him desperately needed the sleep. Sam was torn, but he soon decided to let Steve rest for a little while longer. An hour wouldn't hurt, and the man needed to get his energy back up if they were going to go after his lost friend. So Sam went over to his own room across the hall, turning the TV on low and waited for the hour to pass.

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**AN: So, there is chapter two! Please tell me what you think! Reviews are always appreciated, and make me want to write faster. xD Also, remember this is still un-beted - so forgive me for any spelling or grammatical errors. **


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